


"I'm used to it,"

by the_fifth_marauder101



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Drarry, Fluff and Angst, Good Draco Malfoy, Implied sectumsempra, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mild Blood, Not Canon Compliant, POV Draco Malfoy, Sad Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:33:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_fifth_marauder101/pseuds/the_fifth_marauder101
Summary: "He repeats, over and over in his head." Draco is used to being cast aside, but what happens when people finally notice.





	"I'm used to it,"

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: ["I'm used to it," [Traducción]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581938) by [Personaje](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Personaje/pseuds/Personaje)



> Beta’d by: Elle! (@onoir on tumblr)
> 
> I'm on vacation right now but I wrote this in the car and am super proud of it, hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~Vixen

_“I’m used to it,”_

He says, as he watches the little girl with short black hair take his favorite dragon stuffie from him. His grey eyes well up with tears, but a fake smile is plastered across his young face as he waves goodbye at her family. His father grips his shoulder to the point of pain, a warning. The dragon disappears from his view.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He thinks, as the boy glares at him. As the one he’s always hoped to be his best friend, the one he would have put above all, rejects him. 

He supposes it’s his own fault, having never learned how to make friends on his own, but he really did want to prove himself. 

But watching the boy with the lightning bolt scar being sorted into the opposite house, and sitting next to those who hate his family, he knows he’s ruined.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He mutters under his breath, as the redheaded boy insults him. He does feel bad for baiting them, and he does wish to apologise, but if word got out to his father he’d be done for. 

~~(He tried to, back with the ‘duel’, but Flitch had been scoping out the area and he would have caught out. It was too late to warn them.)~~

_“I’m used to it,”_

He sobs as he clutches his left forearm. The brand of the snake forever serving as a reminder of his fate. His lack of choice, and his weakness. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He thinks as he bleeds out on the floor of the wet bathroom. The voices around him fading out as the ringing in his ears take their place. The pain in his chest somewhat unbearable yet numb at the same time. He’s thankful for it all to be finally over.

It’s not.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He grits his teeth at the pain pounding all through his body. His aunt's laughter ringing in his ears and the Dark Lord’s anger being ever-present as scars all over his body. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He mumbles as the kind Auror who takes him to his holding cell, apologises for the roughness her fellow Aurors had shown towards him. The shackles are clanking in his ears. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He repeats, over and over in his head as he walks down the street. Taunts, jeers, and hexes thrown his way.

He’s so tired. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He whispers out of the corner of his mouth. He’s ignored by Slughorn once again, his paper given the lowest score even though he worked again and again on it, perfecting and triple-checking it into the late hours of the night. His potions partner looks at him sadly, but the last thing he wants is pity.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He slurs, as he presses his face into the other’s chest. The world’s spinning around him, and the only thing he is really aware of is the feeling of safety, the words being mumbled in his ear, and the bright green eyes peering down at him with panic, terror, and shock.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He shrugs only a few moments later when he is asked if he wants to press charges. All he wants to do is sleep.

He’s confused as to why the headmistress looks at him that way, sharing a look with Madam Pomfrey and the raven headed boy at his side.

He doesn’t understand why they think they could help This wasn’t the first time he’d been ambushed, left to heal his wounds naturally. His wand usage is restricted, and healing spells aren’t on the list of spells he is allowed to perform. 

This may have been the most severe one to date, left bleeding in an alcove until his roommate with a hero-complex had come running, scooping him up, and whispering words and spells to heal him while rushing to the hospital wing. 

But he had accepted this long ago, why can’t they?

_“I’m used to it,”_

He whispers as he fails to conjure a Patronus once again. Giving the boy standing in front of him a sad smile as he packs up his things and prepares to leave the empty classroom. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He shakes his head as he burns howler after howler the day after on valentines day. But this time he has a hand to hold, someone to wipe away his metaphorical tears. 

~~(He doesn’t cry, not anymore.)~~

_“I’m used to it,”_

He smiles as he brushes off rumor after rumor whilst holding Harry’s hand, walking down the streets of Hogsmeade. 

They don’t hurt him anymore, they don’t matter. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He chuckles as he wakes to Harry’s snores in the middle of the night. It’s warmly welcomed compared to nightmares. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He smirks as Harry mumbles an apology. Taking off the round black glasses, they resume their kiss, falling back on the bed. 

‘ _I love you_ ’s are whispered through sounds of pleasure, and their new rings glint in the candlelight.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He sighs as Harry smiles sheepishly, casting _reparo_ on the fallen mug, lifting it back into his hands. They are sitting together on a swing under a tree. Holding hands, while Ron and Hermione’s kids play in the garden, and, together, they watch the sunset. 

_“I’m used to it,”_

He kisses his husband who is fretting over the cut he has from brewing.

_“I’m used to it,”_

He grins as Harry cheekily winks at him running into the forest, laughing all the way. 

He runs after his goof of a husband, wiping away the inked mustache on his face. 

~~~~

Not too far away, a rabbit follows a stag over a stream and disappears into the trees. 

_~FIN~_


End file.
